Posts Tagged ‘Christmas’

The only thing worse than the annual office Christmas party is attending the stinkin’ thing alone. Refusing to consign herself to that fate yet again,
Marissa Wagner throws her normally sensible self aside and does what any newly adventurous—okay, desperate—woman in her shoes would do—she hires a male
escort. But when he arrives for their pre-party introduction her situation goes from problem solved, to one holy whopper of a complication. Her paid-for
dream man…is also her best friend’s brother.

Trig Campbell has been in the escorting biz long enough to realize there’s a risk of being set up with someone he knows. Never in a million years did he
count on that person being Marissa. Out of all of Jane’s friends, Rissa’s always been the less wild of the bunch. Now that fate’s in his corner, he’s more
than game to help her explore her bad girl side and play out every kinky fantasy they can. Getting past her doubts is no easy feat. Fortunately he knows a
thing or two about cranking up the carnal heat, and soon he and Marissa embark on a week-long intensely erotic journey that leaves them both shaken and
craving more.

As their time together draws closer to an end, Trig is haunted by a question he’d never expected to face. What possible future can a gigolo offer a woman
like Marissa? And can he let her go when the time comes?

Warning: This book contains a player well-versed in the fine art of sin, a good girl who’s about to find out how delicious it is to be bad, enough kinky
uses for a candy cane to make an elf blush, and verifiable proof that Santa does indeed come more than once a year.

He gently chaffed her hand between his. “Rissa, it’s okay. This isn’t much different than a blind date. Only we have the benefit of already knowing each
other. That’s kind of a good thing, don’t you think?”

“Uh, no.”

“Why?”

She gaped at him like he’d suddenly sprouted an extra head. “Because you’re Jane’s brother. And you’re younger than me.” She darted a look toward the
nearest table before leaning closer to him and dropping her voice to a whisper. “Also I freakin’ paid for you.”

All three of her concerns were expected and no simple barricade to bust through. Best to start with the lowest on the calamity scale. “You’re what, five
years older than me, tops? Don’t think that even qualifies you as a cougar.”

She grimaced. “Oh God, you would have to use that word.”

“I happen to think older women are hella sexy.”

She offered him a peevish look that was downright adorable. “You just said I’m not that much older than you.”

He shrugged. “I’ll make an exception for you.”

That finally earned a ghost of a smile from her. Just as quickly as it appeared, the mesmerizing sight vanished and she frowned, her eyes widening slightly
behind her tortoise frame glasses. “You aren’t suggesting we go through with this!”

“Why not? According to the information I was given, you need a date for your Christmas party, and I’m available. I don’t see any problem with this
scenario.”

She dropped her focus to their linked fingers. Despite her effort to hide her face he still made out the fierce blush creeping across her cheeks. She
cleared her throat. “Trig, I—I just don’t think this is going to work out.”

“If you’re worried what Jane will think, trust me, I have no plan to tell her about any of this.”

She returned her stare to him. “Does she know what you do for a living?”

He grunted. “No. That info would go over like a bag of bricks with my sis. She has a hard enough time with my other side job.”

Her brow furrowed. “Other side job?”

So apparently Jane hadn’t spilled the beans to any of her friends. Or at least not to Marissa. Not that he was necessarily surprised, given how his sis
viewed his decision to put off going back to school to get his MFA. Not much he could do about that until he got a decent chunk taken out of his already
sky-high student loan.

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. This was another conversation he’d never anticipated occurring. Might as well get it all out in the open though. Shit, if
the escort thing hadn’t scared her off by now his other gig likely wouldn’t be the final straw breaking the camel’s back. He hoped. “I dance for an
all-male revue.”

She double blinked. “You’re a stripper?”

“Not full time, but…yeah.”

“Huh. No wonder you’re in such amazing shape.” Her scrutiny drifted to his chest before quickly flicking back upward to his chin as if she were deeply
mortified at getting caught red-handed checking him out. Considering the amount of women who visually molested him on a daily basis—even with his clothes
on—her reaction was adorably goofy.

He bit back a grin. “I’m glad you noticed.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can stop pretending that you don’t know your body is the Eighth freakin’ Wonder of the World.”

He chuckled. “Not that I don’t appreciate the flattery—especially coming from you—but that’s a pretty hefty claim to make without seeing all I have to
offer.”

Her eyes widened again. Oh yeah. She’d definitely picked up on the underlying invitation he’d snuck in there. He deliberately dropped his gaze to her
mouth. “If you want a demonstration before actually buying the goods—”

“Trig.” Her coloring rivaled the hat she’d tucked in her lap.

His face physically hurt from grinning so hard. “I was only going to suggest that you should come watch me at Sinners Friday night.”

“Oh.” She shifted restlessly in her seat. “I’m having dinner with my mom that night.”

It was a good bet that was a lie, judging from the way she stumbled over her words and immediately averted her gaze. “Then I guess you’ll have to take me
sight unseen.” He brushed his thumb along the outside of hers. “Unless you’d prefer a private dance back at your place.”

She squirmed on the bench again. “Is that something you regularly offer your clients?”

“No, though sometimes they ask. Most of the women aren’t looking for anything sexual, believe it or not.”

“H—have you ever slept with any of them?” A rosy flush crawled upward along her neck. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s really none of
my business.”

“No, you deserve to know, and I don’t mind disclosing the information.” He took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. The last thing he wanted to do was
scare Marissa off, but he also believed in being one hundred percent honest when it came to his sexual history. “I’ve never accepted money to have sex with
a woman. What they pay me is strictly for what’s on the agreement form. But a couple of times there have been mutual attractions that led to stuff
happening after I got off the clock.”

He continued tracing her finger, following the curve down to the base of her thumb. He’d never found the simple act of holding a woman’s hand to be this
intimate and erotic. Then again, he probably wouldn’t have the same response if it wasn’t Marissa. Which just went to show the effect she had on him. How
fucking mind blowing would it be having his cock buried deep inside her, feeling her hot and liquid around him while her nails raked his back? He lifted
her hand and bit the tip of her finger, scraping it lightly with his teeth.

Her lips parted on a breathy exhale. The sound wrapped around his cock and squeezed. He released her finger but kept caressing her hand. “Invite me back to
your place, Rissa.”

Yes, he was pushing her. Hard and fast. It might very well backfire on him and she’d run out of the shop in the next two seconds. But he’d never been one
to back away from going after what he wanted. And what he wanted was Marissa—naked, gasping, and coming her brains out underneath him.

Excerpt #2:

Jane herded them to the escalator and they rode it to the second floor where they braved the cosmetic counter ladies and their arsenal of noxious perfume
spritzes.

Doing her best to contain her coughs, Marissa ducked into the women’s evening wear section and bee-lined for the sales rack. She spotted a zebra-print
number that resembled a bandage rather than something a sane woman should be seen wearing in public. Quickly hiding the ensemble behind an oversized
sweater before Jane could pounce on it, Marissa continued appraising her choices. A respectably understated emerald green velvet sheath caught her eye and
she freed it from its place of honor between a pair of leather skinny jeans and a powder blue cashmere cardigan.

Situating the dress against her front, she pivoted sideways. “What do you think of this?”

“Simple and sexy. I like it.”

She jerked her head up and gaped at Trig’s grinning mug. Before she could get her mouth to function she was interrupted by Jane’s perfectly timed
appearance. Spearing her brother with a fierce look, Jane sidled next to Marissa. “What? Your bromance already on the rocks? Guess you shouldn’t have kept
him waiting while consorting with us peons.”

“No, Jack texted me that he had an emergency pop up.” Trig propped his elbow on top of the clothes rack and flashed a smile that made Marissa squirm.
“Looks like I’m all yours.”

“Lucky us.” Snorting, Jane turned her attention to the dress Marissa was clutching. She clucked her tongue. “Not enough cleavage. Or leg.”

“You’re not dressing me like a hoochie mama.”

Her expression pained, Jane glanced at Trig. “On second thought, you might come in useful. Clearly I need all the help I can convincing Polly the Prude
here to wear something that wasn’t designed for Bingo Night at the convalescent home.”

Marissa rolled her eyes.

“Occasion?” Trig inquired. Judging from the wicked twinkle in his irises he knew damn well what the dress was for.

“My office work party,” she gritted between her teeth.

“The game plan is to get her laid while she’s there.”

Marissa was torn between the desire to throttle Jane for that comment or crawl into the security of the nearest clothes rack to hide. That last option
sounded like the wiser choice when Trig’s mouth tipped upward at one corner.

“Oh yeah?”

Marissa shook her head adamantly. “Don’t listen to her. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Bullshit.” Jane flicked her wrist. “Everyone knows office parties are for faxing photo copies of your ass to your ex and/or freaky sex with that
questionable guy from the mailroom. Preferably you’ll kill two birds with one stone by getting it on atop of said copier.”

“I really worry about you sometimes.” Marissa risked another peek in Trig’s direction. He was still eyeing her with blazing interest. Fairly certain he was
mentally calculating the proper alignment required for Xeroxing her naked fanny, she hugged the dress tighter to her chest and inched toward the fitting
rooms. “I’m going to, uh, try this on.”

Jane grumbled under her breath and stalked to a display of designer evening gowns on the opposite side of the walkway. Her credit card already cringing in
anticipation of what her friend would attempt to foist on her, Marissa scooted around Trig. He surprised her by falling in step next to her, and she slid
him a questioning glance.

“Thought you might require some assistance getting out of your bra.” Crooking his arm around her shoulder, he flashed his teeth in a wolfish grin.

She smothered a laugh. “I’m sure you have plenty of experience in that department, but fortunately mine unhooks in the front.” Oh Lord, why did she tell
him that? Discussing her undergarments sure as hell didn’t help her situation.

“I’d never live with myself if you broke a nail fiddling with the hook.”

“Your concern for my manicure is touching. Truly.”

“Oh, there will be plenty of touching involved. Most likely some licking and sucking too.”

Her nipples tightened at his teasing promise. She really shouldn’t be enjoying this flirty seduction as much as she was. Clearing her throat, she gave a
pointed look to the arm he’d draped around her.

Sighing in exaggerated dejection, he dropped his arm. “You know where to find me when that stubborn clasp gives you problems.”

She stepped forward—and killed her squeak when he delivered a light smack to her ass. Flustered, she slashed a look over her shoulder to ensure that Jane
hadn’t caught the gesture. Her best friend was still absorbed with the task of scrutinizing the overpriced dresses in the adjacent department. Gusting a
relieved breath, Marissa pointed her finger at Trig. “Stop being so naughty.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Excerpt #3:

Trig positioned himself on his mark behind the curtain. Frank signaled the DJ and gave Trig a thumbs-up before shuffling out of sight.

“Ladies,” the DJ’s voice boombed through the speakers. “How many good girls do we have in the house tonight?”

A smattering of catcalls echoed beyond the curtain.

“Dirty liars.” The DJ’s retort was met with raucous laughter from the crowd. “All right, now let’s hear it from all the bad girls out there.”

The entire club damn near shook under the exuberant “Woohoo’s” and “Hell yeahs” from the women.

“That’s more like it. Fortunately for y’all, we’ve got a special guest who flew in all the way from the North Pole to tantalize you with his own pole.
Which one of you sexy bitches wants to sit on his lap and tell him about the big package you want stuffed in your stocking?”

More rowdiness erupted from the patrons.

“What’s that? I can’t hear you.”

The volume of the ladies’ shouts and all around insanity increased by a thousand fold as they vied with each other to be the one picked. The hoopla was all
for show and to get them worked up and their wallets loosened. The woman had already been chosen, thanks to James’s perpetual boner.

“He sees you when you’re sleeping. He knows when you’re awake and fucking hornier than hell.” The improvised line triggered the loudest series of hollers
yet. “He knows when you’ve been bad or good. So you better be baaaaad, for goodness sake. Because we have the one…the only…Kinky Claus in the house!”

The velvet drapes lifted with a dramatic swoosh and the deafening cheers of the crowd nearly drowned out the opening bars to Santa Claus Needs Some Lovin’.
Their excitement energized him, filling him with the heady rush he always experienced when he was in performance mode. In that moment, he was Kinky Claus.

Strutting to the center of the stage, he worked the ladies, teasing them with dirty hip rolls and promised flashes of skin he didn’t completely deliver on.
The women ate it up, and several of the more rambunctious ones up front shook their tatas in encouragement. He’d been in plenty of strip clubs throughout
his life, both as a performer and an occasional patron. He had to admit that women were hella more wild and crazy than his male counterparts.

From the corner of his eye he spotted Frank approaching one of the tables. Damn. He’d completely forgotten to check out Miss Five ahead of time. Not often
he got the opportunity to do that before the female was hauled up onto the stage.

“Looks like we have our lucky lady.” The DJ’s announcement drifted over the cacophony of music and boisterous female chants of, “Kinky Claus! Kinky Claus!
Kinky Claus!”

Taking that as his cue, Trig pivoted and claimed the chair set up to the left of him. In other routines he typically started off with the female seated,
but this particular act initially called for a bit of role reversal. He glanced toward the stairs leading up to the stage, fully expecting to see Frank
with the woman in tow. Nada.

Frowning, Trig peered toward the table to determine the holdup. Frank’s burly frame blocked most of the view, but from what Trig could detect, Frank was
dealing with some reluctance from Miss Five. Occasionally they got a shy one. Not often, but it did happen. Usually everything worked out fine once they
got up here and Trig put them at ease. Hell, half the time they ended up not wanting to leave the stage. It was always the quiet ones who surprised him the
most and he had the best fun with.

The other women at Five joined in Frank’s efforts to coax their tablemate into abandoning her seat. Their encouragement must have done the trick, because
Frank suddenly stepped aside with a pleased grin. That’s when Trig had his first unobstructed view of his soon-to-be lap partner. He stared at Marissa,
shock punching him dead center in the solar plexus. Damn good thing he was sitting down, otherwise he’d be flat on the floor.

What the hell was she doing here?

Duh, you invited her, moron. Never in a million years would he have thought she’d take him up on it. Not after the way they ended things last night.

Shit. How was he going to get through this routine? All of the full-on body contact and suggestive grinding.

The idea started a few weeks ago when I was trying to figure out what to do with Cinnamon Swirl bread that was going stale. I had an idea of using it in a French Toast recipe but didn’t want to do just the usual recipe so I asked some friends for ideas and the wonderful Lissa Matthews and Leah Braemel gave me some suggestions I could work with. I settled on using Gingerbread spices (since I liked them and beyond coffee I don’t work with them in cooking.). I Googled Gingerbread Recipes for spice measurements and turned to the Food Network for the French Toast components (how much milk to use, how many eggs, etc.). I settled on using Robert Irvine’s French Toast Recipe as a base and made adjustments. Here’s my recipe:

Cinnamon Swirl Gingerbread French Toast

7 slices on Pepperidge Farm Cinnamon Swirl Bread (maybe 8 if you can work it)

1/4 teaspoon Nutmeg

1 teaspoon Ginger

2 tablespoons Brown Sugar

1/4 teaspoon Ground Cloves

1/4 teaspoon Ground All Spice

1/4 Cup Milk

4 Eggs

1/2 teaspoon Vanilla Extract

Directions:

Mix spices first and set aside (I mixed them the night before so I had less work in the morning). I measured out the milk in a measuring cup, added in the extract and mixed that together before I added in the first egg, a spoonful of the spice mixture and stirred. I repeated the process until I’d used up all the eggs and spices then poured it into a glass baking dish. I soaked the bread for 1 min per side. While I waited for the bread to be ready I heated a pan and put in a large hunk of butter (I use Smart Balance Butter Spread) and added a bit of olive oil to keep the butter from burning. Once it was all melted and the bread was ready I started the frying. Once done I topped with powdered sugar. You can douse on some maple syrup. I suggest having bacon with the toast. (Charlene, you know I couldn’t leave out the bacon. My Super Twin Jodi Redford would’ve disowned me for a minute or so. Can’t have that).

The taste of Cinnamon and the Gingerbread spice mixture was light so I didn’t get a lot of heat. If you are feeling more daring or are more advanced in cooking than I am (I only cook/bake once in awhile when I’m so inclined), you can adjust the spice levels to your taste.

Blurb:

Hockey player Brice Douglas has never gotten over the Christmas he spent with Ava Johnson back in college. Now, years later, he’s in trouble with his team, the Witch Fields Prowlers. Desperate to keep their rabble-rousing player’s head in the game, they hire a babysitter to keep his ass out of a sling and home in his bed at night: Ava. He’s determined to make up for lost time, while convincing her he’s not the man the team made him out to be, using every dirty, sexy trick he can.

Ava just got out a relationship with a cheating fiancé. She needs time to rebuild her life and babysitting her old college crush maybe the answer to her prayers–so long as sex isn’t involved. Yet, with his sexy nightly self-pleauring sessions and dirty talk her resistance quickly starts wearing thin. With every day that passes, she’s growing more comfortable with him and his desire for her.

Will she be putting Brice on ice, or will he end up thawing Ava?

Buy At:

Ava shifted from one foot to the other as the ache between her legs increased. She licked her lips and brushed loose strands of her hair behind her ears. Ava looked down as the heat in her face increased to become a prickling fire. She felt awkward and unkempt. Even though she hadn’t dressed up to meet him, she’d kept her style casual.

“Hey!” Brice put his bag on the ground, leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, picked her up, and held her close in a bear hug that sent her thoughts into disarray and set her body on fire. Through the thick padding of his jacket, she could feel his solid frame. Her hips bumped his, and there was definitely something happy to see her. She gave in and melted against him for a bit, allowing the cold on his clothes to cool some of her ardor. It didn’t work. Her father’s words came back to bite her. “Brice has got so much talent. I want him focused, and I want his head out of his ass. You’re no-nonsense. You can keep him on the straight and narrow, and with your…” Her thoughts stalled.

Crap.

She wriggled in his arms, but he only tightened his grasp and placed a kiss on her cheek. His beard scratched her skin, sending tendrils of arousal straight to her pussy. A giggle formed in her throat, but she refused to let it out. Her lips turned traitor and curled upward.

Her brain betrayed her, and she began to wonder if it felt this good on her cheek… No no no! she admonished herself. “Um, Brice, can you put me down? You’re cold.” Sad excuse, not even true. With her jacket on, she was warm. She felt like she’d stepped into a steam room. Her body heat spiked, and her clothes began to chafe her skin. The idea of stripping down to cool off was tempting, but she doubted that would help keep Brice in line. Or make a good impression with any of his neighbors.

“Oops, sorry.” He placed her on her feet with care, but he still had a smile on his sensual lips. “I’m so glad you’re here, and that it’s you and not someone else. You do remember me, right?” Worry clouded his green eyes. Tension radiated from his body, making her uneasy.

Thawing Ava

USA Today Recommended

Blurb:

Hockey player Brice Douglas has never gotten over the Christmas he spent with Ava Johnson back in college. Now, years later, he’s in trouble with his team, the Witch Fields Prowlers. Desperate to keep their rabble-rousing player’s head in the game, they hire a babysitter to keep his ass out of a sling and home in his bed at night: Ava. He’s determined to make up for lost time, while convincing her he’s not the man the team made him out to be, using every dirty, sexy trick he can.

Ava just got out a relationship with a cheating fiancé. She needs time to rebuild her life and babysitting her old college crush maybe the answer to her prayers–so long as sex isn’t involved. Yet, with his sexy nightly self-pleauring sessions and dirty talk her resistance quickly starts wearing thin. With every day that passes, she’s growing more comfortable with him and his desire for her.

Will she be putting Brice on ice, or will he end up thawing Ava?

Excerpt:

She shifted in her seat and looked down at the counter. “Okay, deal. So are you too tired for…?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to finish that sentence.

“Say it, Ava,” Brice ordered.

Heat flared in her face and prickled along her ears. She licked her lips. “Um, are you too tired for what you promised me?”

Brice shook his head, and her heart sank. “Ava, be explicit. Tell me what you want.”

“Do you want to tie me down on the bed and use sex toys on me?” He hadn’t talked about vibrators and dildos, but she decided to throw that in there and see if he’d be put off. Brice had mentioned that he wanted to watch her masturbate, to see how she liked it, but this was putting her pleasure completely at his control.

The room grew hotter, and the fireplace wasn’t even on. She toyed with her phone. His gaze weighed on her, caressing the column of her neck, swirling around her breasts, and slipping down her stomach to whisper against her thickened labia. She could feel his fingertips ghosting over her flesh.

“I told you before you never have to feel ashamed with me over your desires and needs. You have to be honest with me and me with you. Now using sex toys on you—do you want me to use the ones I have, or do you want to use yours?”

He had sex toys? “Why would you have sex toys?”

He chuckled and replied, “I always wanted to be prepared in case I found a lover with my interests. If we came back here, which was rare, if ever, I’d be ready. Good enough explanation?” He moved around the counter.

She reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. “Yes, and thank you for not getting defensive with my asking.”

“Another Perry thing?” His eyes narrowed, and anger flared briefly before it disappeared to be replaced by an emotion she couldn’t identify.

She nodded. “Yes, but I want to move on from there, do things I was denied, and finally acknowledge and give in to my desires.”

He cupped her cheek and gave it a stroke before he stepped back. “Good. Just let me take a shower, okay? Marsh talked me into a workout while analyzing my games. I feel like I’ve pushed myself so hard that I’ll need some massage therapy tomorrow. Sex will help, though.” He gave her a kiss on her cheek, finished his slice, then went into the bathroom.

This is my new cover for my upcoming Christmas story with Loose-Id. The cover artist is the wonderfully creative Fiona Jayde. This is my first ever contemporary story. No paranormal elements at all! Writing this book was both terrifying and fun. This is also my first sports story, set in the world of hockey. I’m so excited to share this story with you.-Se

Hockey player Brice Douglas has never gotten over the Christmas he spent with Ava Johnson back in college. Now, years later, he’s in trouble with his team, the Witch Fields Prowlers. Desperate to keep their rabble-rousing player’s head in the game, they hire a babysitter to keep his ass out of a sling and home in his bed at night: Ava. He’s determined to make up for lost time, while convincing her he’s not the man the team made h
im out to be, using every dirty, sexy trick he can.

Ava just got out a relationship with a cheating fiancé. She needs time to rebuild her life and babysitting her old college crush maybe the answer to her prayers–so long as sex isn’t involved. Yet, with his sexy nightly self-pleasuring sessions and dirty talk her resistance quickly starts wearing thin. With every day that passes, she’s growing more comfortable with him and his desire for her.